


The Homeless Prince

by Raggetymanftw



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Ancient past fic, I'm not good with the shipping names in this fandom, M/M, give this fic some love please so it's not abandoned, just in time for father's day, puzzleshipping I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:41:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raggetymanftw/pseuds/Raggetymanftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heba has been cast out of his homeland due to rebellion against his father. What is he to do now? No money and no way to survive, will a kind Pharaoh take pity on this down and out prince?</p><p>(Haven't decided where I'm going with this, hence it still not being rated. So, tell me what you want, what you really really want)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Homeless Prince

Heba was exhausted. He had only been able to escape with the clothes on his back and a few supplies that the cook had shoved into a sack for him. The only one able to accompany him was his best friend and personal guard Jou.

 

They had attacked at night, sneaking silently through the city walls. It was clear to Heba that the royal family had been betrayed. Heba feared for his people. Heba’s father had been a tyrant, cruel and unjust. The only reason that Heba had not been killed immediately and allowed to escape was because he was known as being kind. He had often freed prisoners from his father’s dungeons who didn’t deserve to be there. He even ran an underground soup kitchen that fed the homeless and the poor that Heba’s father did not protect or care for.

 

But these niceties did not stop the rebels from burning the palace and murdering Heba’s father before his very eyes. Heba may not have been entire loyal to his father, but he did love him and it hurt to watch him be beheaded like that.

 

All that was left to do was leave Libya as fast as possible. The closest kingdom was Egypt. The kingdoms had never been enemies, but they hadn’t been allies either. Heba hoped to go to Egypt and become an anonymous citizen. He didn’t want the Pharaoh to think he was trying to over throw him with his presence. So there they were, trekking through the desert.

 

Jou had been injured and had lost a lot of blood. Jou had insisted that Heba leave him in the burning castle, but Heba refused. He had just lost his father, his home and his country. He was not going to lose his best friend as well.

 

It was nearing nightfall when they found an oasis that they could stop at for Jou to rest. Heba treated Jou as best as his could, but he wasn’t the most experienced healer. Heba had been studying to be the head Healer and medical magical practitioner when he was forced to drop training and take up the duties as Crown Prince. The only reason Heba had to do this at all was because his older brother, Judai, had died from an incurable disease. Heba had then been announced as heir to the throne.

 

Heba’s dream of travelling the world had been crushed in that one moment. Heba had hoped that his father would have chosen someone else to be his heir, as the king had stated many times that he didn’t believe Heba to have the strength of character to rule a kingdom. Judai had always disagreed with the king and Heba had always loved him for that. More than ever, Heba missed his brother.

 

As Jou rested, Heba changed his bandages and put a cool cloth on Jou’s head to help him relax. Once that was done, Heba held his hand over the wound and took a deep breath. Pulling from energies deep inside himself, Heba attempted to heal Jou’s wound. The response was almost immediate. The wound finally began to heal, as Heba’s magic had forced the blood to clot, as it hadn’t been before. Heba looked at Jou.

 

“This is going to hurt.” Heba said bracingly to his friend. Jou nodded through gritted teeth. With one last bit of strength Heba had, he focused on the wound and caused the skin to knit itself together. Jou screamed, the pain was so intense. When Heba was done, the wound was mostly healed, only leaving slightly puffy pink skin in its place.

 

Heba slumped down on the ground, exhausted from his work, breathing heavily and sweating.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that Heba, you’ll need your strength.” Jou said, panting.

 

Heba turned his head and looked at his friend. “If I hadn’t, you’d have died.”

 

Jou chuckled weakly. “If you do that again any time soon, you’ll die.”

 

Heba shrugged tiredly. “You’re worth it Jou. Besides, you’ve saved my life enough times, I felt that I should return the favour.”

 

Jou met Heba’s eyes. “I’ll build a fire. You rest Heba. We have a lot of walking to do tomorrow.”

 

Heba nodded, already falling asleep on the sandy bank of the small lake.

 

Jou sighed. “Hopefully this stream leads to the Nile.”

 

Not long after Jou started the fire, he sat down beside Heba and took the night watch.

\--

 

The Priestess Isis frowned.

 

“What is it, Isis?” A baritone voice asked.

 

“I sense a presence. A powerful one on the boarder of your kingdom, my Pharaoh.” Isis replied.

 

The Pharaoh, Atem, raised his eyebrows. “And what is the nature of this power.”

 

“Unclear, my Pharaoh. But its energy does not seem to be malevolent.” Isis replied.

 

The Pharaoh nodded. “Keep an eye on it anyway. I want to know if it crosses into Egypt.”

 

Isis bowed. “Yes, my Pharaoh.”

\--

 

Jou was indeed correct. The small stream did connect with the river Nile. Only problem was, the river wasn’t the only thing awaiting them.

 

Heba had kept his hood up, not wanting anyone to recognise him by his purple eyes, his tri-coloured hair or his pale beauty. Being pale skinned was rare in Egypt and Heba did not want to be noticed to easily.

 

Jou gripped his sword. “Why have you stopped us? We are but simple travellers.”

 

One of the men, riding on a mighty steed and wearing a blue headdress, snorted. “You carry a sword and your companion carries vast power. I feel that the words ‘simple travellers’ do not apply to you.”

 

Jou growled, almost drawing his sword when Heba rested his hand on Jou’s shoulder. “Please, Jou. This does not need to end in a fight.”

 

Heba turned and addressed the three noblemen and their guards. “We are fleeing Libya. The palace has burned and the king is dead.”

 

The man, Seto, raised an eyebrow. “The king was a tyrant and treated his people poorly. If he has been killed and the people no longer oppressed, then why do you need to flee? Surely it’s safer now?”

 

Heba shook his head. “Looting and violence is at a high. Executions of people in the government have been going on since we fled. The advisors. Other noblemen.”

 

Seto’s eyes widened. “And what of the Crown Prince?”

 

Heba smirked under his hood. “The prince is safe. But he has no intention of returning to Libya.”

 

“And who are you to assume what the prince is thinking?” Seto scoffed.

 

Heba rolled his eyes and removed his cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. “Because I **_am_** the Crown Prince of Libya.”

 

The assembled Egyptians gasped. Even some of the guards fell to their knees in submission.

 

It had always been noted how much the Crown Prince of Libya and the Pharaoh of Egypt looked alike, but never had the statement proved truer than when Priest Seto saw it. The boy was almost identical to the Pharaoh, except his eyes were purple and rounder, more innocent. The tips of his hair were also purple and his skin was so pale, it was almost white.

 

Seto looked like he had swallowed a lemon.

 

One of Seto’s companions, Mahaad, dismounted from his horse and bowed before Heba. “I am sorry if you have been offended. We came to assess the potential danger of such a powerful person crossing our border. We had no idea that it was you, your Highness. Let me apologise on behalf of the royal Guard.”

 

Heba smiled. “Of course. I understand the need to protect ones’ borders from villains who might want to hurt the people.”

 

Mahaad bowed again. “It would be my honour to invite you to return to palace with us. There you will be fed and washed and clothed.”

 

Heba bowed to Mahaad. “I accept your invitation.”

 

With a courteous nod to Heba, Mahaad turned to his guard and gestured for two horses to be given, one to Heba and one to Jou.

\--

 

The trip back to the palace hadn’t seemed as long on horseback. Heba thought it would have taken days on foot. In some ways, he was lucky that the guard had met them and taken them to the palace.

 

There, the Priestess Isis had allocated them rooms near the Pharaoh’s own rooms, indicating that Isis took their status seriously, even if Heba was no longer Crown Prince. Heba washed and dressed himself, preparing himself for the moment he would be brought before the Pharaoh and judged. Heba was nervous. He had never met foreign royalty as Crown Prince. He had always been in the background when his father and Judai greeted their royal visitors. To think this would be the first and last time he’d be doing it was quite daunting. Either way, Heba gathered his courage and tried to hold his head high as he was escorted to the throne room.

 

“My Pharaoh, may I present to you the Crown Prince of Libya, Heba.” Seto said in a grand voice.

 

Heba immediately settled into a deep bow before slowly rising, not quite meeting the Pharaoh’s eyes. Heba believed that to be rude, especially since he wasn’t really a prince anymore.

 

“I am saddened by the events that have brought you before me,” The Pharaoh stated calmly. “To lose a father in such a way is heartbreaking. You have my sympathies, little one.”

 

Heba’s eyebrow twitched ‘Little one’? “Thank you for your kind words, Pharaoh. They mean a lot in this troubled time.” Heba held back a gasp when he finally looked up enough to take in the Pharaoh’s appearance. He was breathtakingly handsome. His skin was golden brown, adorned in white silks and linen, giving his skin an ethereal glow. He had some arm and wrist cuffs, along with ankle cuffs. He, of course, had his royal jewellery; consisting of his crown circlet, his earrings and the Millennium Puzzle. He didn’t need any other adornment, excluding a wife, which he didn’t seem to have either. To Heba, he truly did look like the earth bound God his title of Pharaoh bestowed upon him. Heba thought he would melt from the piercing stare the Pharaoh sent his way as well as from the king’s appearance. The man was truly gorgeous.

 

The Pharaoh smiled. “I want you to know that you are welcome to stay here in the palace as my royal guest for as long as you wish. It’s the least I can offer you. Especially after you have just lost your home.”

 

Heba sighed. “Please, my Pharaoh. I do not wish to become a burden on your hospitality. As I am no longer a prince, I am no longer deserving of such a title or what comes with such a station. By your leave, my Pharaoh, I would simply like to start anew in your kingdom, as a private citizen.”

 

The Pharaoh smiled again. “I think you are more than worthy of the title. Your survival against the odds has proved that, not to mention the magical power you possess. You may not have lands or wealth any more, but you are still royalty by blood. If you want to work, that is of course up to you, but I will not withdraw my offer of allowing you to stay in the guest royal suites. You and your personal guard may stay as long as you wish.”

 

Heba felt tears well up in his eyes, but he held them back. “Thank you for your kindness, my Pharaoh. I will endeavour to earn what you have given me.”

 

The Pharaoh chuckled. “In my opinion, you already have. You are what, 16? And you survived all that? You have earned it. May I request your presence at dinner tonight?”

 

Heba bowed. “It would be my honour.” And with that, Heba left the throne room with one final bow and returned to his quarters to rest.

\--

 

Atem had been enraptured with the young prince the moment he walked into the throne room. Heba had a kind air that surrounded him. He seemed extremely humble and somewhat shy for a Crown Prince, especially one who had his looks. The pale skin and soft features made him incredibly desirable. And yet, for someone seeming so gentle and kind, he had a strength to him that was a rare find. Atem admired that about him. The Pharaoh wanted to get to know this young prince. He wanted to know everything about him, his opinions, his ideas, his personality. But most of all, Atem wanted to make sure that he didn’t have that broken expression on his face ever again.

 

The Pharaoh was already becoming excited about dinner that night. He was looking forward to having a deep discussion with Heba. He found himself phasing in and out of meetings with his advisors and guards, his mind wandering back to Heba. The more he thought about it, Atem didn’t think that Heba had the personality of the average young Crown Prince. He seemed too quiet, too demure for it. Perhaps he wasn’t always the Crown Prince. Atem vaguely remembered meeting a different boy when he was younger. He had had completely black hair with two blonde streaks through it, and his eyes definitely weren’t purple like Heba’s. Maybe this boy had been Heba’s older brother. But what had become of him? Atem pondered this for the rest of the afternoon.

\--

 

Heba nervously adjusted his sash as he prepared himself for dinner with the Pharaoh. Though the king had seemed kind, Heba wanted to make a good impression. He didn’t want to look silly in front of the man who practically gave him a new home. Though he had a commanding presence, Heba doubted that the Pharaoh was much older than he was. How did he do it? It was probably because he was raised to be king, whereas Heba had it thrust upon him. And though the king said that he had earned the right to be still known as prince, Heba couldn’t help but feel like he had to prove to the Pharaoh that he was worthy. Heba sighed. He doubted he would ever be worthy of anything, much less being a prince. He was much more useful in the basements, using his magic to preserve magical ingredients and learning to heal. He wasn’t brave or charismatic; all the things a Crown Prince and a king should be. Heba sat down on his bed and looked out the window.

 

“Without my magic, I’m nothing.” Heba whispered to himself. “I’m not important. Not like Judai was. I should have died instead of him. He’s worthy of everything the Pharaoh has given me.”

 

With a sigh, Heba rose to his feet and plastered a small, polite smile on his face and headed out to find the Pharaoh for dinner.  

 

As he entered the room, Heba once again, bowed deeply before the Pharaoh. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner, my Pharaoh. I am honoured.”

 

The Pharaoh smiled. “Please, sit beside me little one. I want to hear all about you.”

 

Heba immediately turned bright red. He chuckled nervously. “Believe me, Pharaoh, I’m not really that interesting a person.”

 

The Pharaoh laughed. “Nonsense! I’m sure you’re a very interesting person. Please, tell me all.”

 

Heba anxiously rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, I’ve always wanted to be a healer. I was studying for it my whole life before, well, I had to become Crown Prince. I’m glad I learned what I had, or Jou would have died on our trek over here. He had been injured and was losing a lot of blood.”

 

The Pharaoh frowned. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why did you have to become Crown Prince? You clearly didn’t want to and you love to heal.”

 

Heba looked down at his hands. “My brother, Judai, he died. My father had no other sons, especially none old enough, so I had to be named heir.”

 

“What happened to your younger brothers?” The Pharaoh asked.

 

“I have no idea. I’ve never really met them and I didn’t get to see them before I had to flee. And it was either find my brothers or let Jou die. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. You must think me a coward.” Heba said, with a small self-deprecating laugh. “I’m sure that’s what my father thinks, wherever his spirit is now.”

 

Atem looked at the younger boy, feeling his chest clench in sadness. Obviously the now dead king of Libya hadn’t only been cruel to his people, but his sons as well.

 

“I don’t think you a coward Heba. You think of Jou as your family, don’t you? As your only family, now that your older brother is gone?” Atem asked.

 

Heba looked up slightly and nodded. “Jou is all I have left. And he was the only there for me when Judai died. I mean, besides the palace staff. The cook, Tally, she was like a mother to me. She made sure I got out of the castle alive after I saw my father beheaded.” Heba looked off wistfully, almost tearing up. “I hope she’s okay. Though, knowing the people, they probably killed the palace staff.”

 

It was at that moment that Atem’s heart and resolve broke. He rose from his seat and wrapped Heba in his arms, holding the younger boy close to his chest.

 

“I am so sorry for the horrors you have witnessed. You are too young and pure of heart to have been forced through such an ordeal. To have survived against all the odds makes you a very strong young man. Valiant and wise.” Atem said.

 

Heba felt a sob wrack through his body. Never had anyone been so kind. He had grown up believing that he was worthless, the spare. The good for nothing son and prince, who’s life would amount to nothing. To hear such gently spoken and honest words was too much for Heba. He had been through so much, so young, it made it hard to breathe. As Heba continued to sob quietly, Atem rubbed soothing circles on the younger boys back, wanting to protect him with all his might. Atem didn’t know where these protective and possessive feelings had come from, but Atem didn’t want to reject them. Maybe it was because Heba reminded him of what he was like when he was a young boy and what it was like when he lost his own father.

 

Soon Heba stopped crying and pulled away from the Pharaoh. “Sorry for getting your tunic wet.” Heba mumbled.

 

The Pharaoh smiled softly and wiped away the tears that still lingered on Heba’s soft cheeks. “It’s alright little one. Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe here in my palace, with me.”

 

Heba blushed and looked up, meeting the Pharaoh’s eyes for the first time. “Thank you, Pharaoh.”

 

The Pharaoh chuckled softly. “You’ve already cried on me, little one. I think it’s about time you start calling me Atem.”

 

Heba blushed again. “Thank you Atem.”

 

Atem caressed Heba’s cheek softly before pulling away and returning to his own seat. Both missed the warmth of the other’s arms almost instantly.

 

After the silence stretched a little too long, Atem smiled softly at Heba. “Are you alright?”

 

Heba sighed. “I just wish I could have done something. If I had just been better or faster or stronger, I could have rescued more people. Done something that made me, I don’t know, worthwhile. I’m supposed to be this strong Crown Prince and lead my people. But I’m not. I’m just me. Judai was that person. I’m just the awkward younger brother who spent too much time in the library with my head in the clouds. I’m not a leader or a fighter or some wise person. I’m just Heba, the skinny kid who couldn’t stand up for himself.”

 

Atem regarded Heba for a moment. “What do you like to do?”

 

Heba frowned. “Uh, read. Make things, painting. I like a bit of horse riding. I do magic tricks.”

 

Atem raised an eyebrow. “Then own it. You’re Heba. Sure, you like reading; but you can make things and you can ride a horse. You can heal a life threatening wound. You can survive five days in the baking desert with limited supplies. You half carried your wounded friend for miles to an oasis before you saved his life. You made it through a rebellion, your home being set on fire, watching your father murdered before your eyes and survived. If you ask me Heba, you’re a pretty amazing and unique young man. And if someday you return to Libya and you are restored to your throne, I think you’d make one hell of a King as well. You know what it feels like to be powerless, to be treated cruelly. You would make the strongest and most compassionate king I would ever have the privilege of meeting.”

 

Heba stared at him, his mouth having fallen open slightly. Atem smiled at him.

 

“I just wish you could see yourself the way other people see you.” Atem added, not unkindly.

 

Heba blushed. “You put me on quite the pedestal. But I don’t feel all that special. However, I do thank you for your generous words. No one has ever been quite so kind to me.”

 

“Then they were foolish. You deserve that and more. I am good at reading people, little one. And I have never met someone so pure of soul as you. If you stay here with me, in this palace, you will never be mistreated ever again. Here, you are better than family.” Atem said.

 

Heba frowned. “All this for someone you’ve barely met?”

 

Atem shrugged. “I feel as if I already know you. Do you feel it too?”

 

Heba stared at him. He had felt a connection to the Pharaoh from the first moment he had laid eyes on him, but Heba had just thought that because he was highly attracted to him. But now, after this interlude, Heba believed it to be something more. More than just Atem’s beautiful voice and his hypnotic eyes. But his kind words and fierce heart, made of solid gold.

 

Heba smiled. “I think I feel it too.”

 

Atem smiled warmly. Suddenly, he called to the closest slave. “Could you send for Master Mahaad please?” The slave bowed deeply before returning shortly with Mahaad.

 

“What do you require, my Pharaoh?” Mahaad asked, giving a bow himself.

 

“Clear my schedule for tomorrow, would you? I’m going to show the prince around the palace and the grounds.” Atem said, smirking at his friend.

 

Mahaad said nothing but raised an eyebrow before bowing and leaving the room.

 

Atem turned back to Heba and grinned. Heba, however, looked stunned.

 

“Why...?” Heba began.

 

Atem chuckled. “Maybe I want to spend some time with my new guest and show him around his new home, if it is to be his home?” Atem asked, a hopeful tone to his voice.

 

Heba smiled broadly, his first proper smile since Judai died. “I would love to.” 


End file.
